The Dragon's Flower
by Phoenix Donovan
Summary: Pansy and Draco were best friends from the very beginning, and as the years went on, their relationship grew. This is their story. DracoPansy.
1. Introduction

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters.

* * *

**Author's Note:** I know I said my next fic would be Draco/Hermione (_Sang Pur_), but this story came to me and I'm going to write it first. I will then submit my D/Hfollowed by _Scarlet Fever_. Thank you, and if you have no idea what I'm talking about or if you just don't care, roll wit it bitches! --Phoenix D.

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**Summary:** Draco and Pansy, first year through sixth. Het in later chapters.

* * *

**Introduction**

"Make lots of friends," Mrs. Parkinson said, kissing her daughter on the forehead. She put her mouth to Pansy's ear and said in a low voice, "Friends of the right kind." Pansy nodded; she understood completely. A girl raised in such high prestige need not be told this, for the blood not only ran in her veins, but it had surrounded her since birth.

_Pureblood._

As every member of her family before her, Pansy was sorted into Slytherin, which presented the task of making "blood-worthy" friends as much easier. Many purebloods were sorted into Slytherin, as Salazar Slytherin himself most wanted them. In fact, the only well-known pureblood family Pansy knew that wasn't in Slytherin was the Weasleys, whose ginger hair belonged in Gryffindor. Pansy knew better than to associate herself with _them_.

The first friend Pansy made was Millicent Bulstrode.

"I have two very well-known brothers!" Millicent boasted. "They are very rich, too! Do you have any brothers?"

"No."

"It doesn't matter. I've heard good things about your family. Purebloods, they are."

"Yes."

"My family speaks very highly of yours."

Millicent went on about all of the good families she knew.

"Crabbe, Malfoy, Goyle…" she counted off. "You'll get to know all of them."

Pansy already knew of these families, of course, as she herself was one of them; however, she hadn't really heard of Bulstrode that much, she noted.

As they were escorted to the Common Room by the Prefect, Pansy spotted through the noisy crowd one of the boys Millicent had mentioned: "Draco Malfoy is the most popular first year…" His white-blonde hair was not hard to miss.

On the first night of that year, the first years gathered around the fire to exchange stories about various things, from summer adventures to family prestige.

"My mother is a famous supermodel," Blaise Zabini said. Draco smirked.

"My mother is a Black," he said. "But anyway, will any of you try out for Quidditch? Of course, first years never make the team—we're not even allowed our own brooms!—but next year? Father says I'm a right flyer." He leaned back in his chair. "I agree."

"I think I'll try out," Millicent said.

"Oh yeah, are you any good then?" Draco asked, but he changed the subject before giving her a chance to answer. "Knew I'd be in Slytherin, my entire family has been."

He locked eyes with Pansy.

"What about you?" he asked.

"What about me?"

"Did you know you'd be in Slytherin? Your family is pureblood, isn't it? You're a Parkinson?"

"Yes," Pansy said, lifting her chin as if daring him to challenge her. But he didn't. He just smiled slightly and joined in another conversation concerning Quidditch.

* * *

Pansy, Millicent, Crabbe, Goyle, and Malfoy became a bit of a clique that first year at Hogwarts. The quintet did everything together—from studying to bullying to resting on the warm spring lawn. 

Millicent, however, had taken an interest in Draco quite quickly.

"My parents are friends of the Malfoys," she would boast. "Oh, there he is! Draco! Did you see Potter today? He looks extra stupid, doesn't he?"

Draco gave her a look. "He always does." He glanced past Millicent over to Pansy. "Hey, Parkinson!"

And that's the way it was that first year.

On the last day of school, when the Hogwarts Express arrived back at Platform 9 and ¾, Draco shook Pansy's hand.

"Come around this summer," he told her. "Your family is welcome at the Manor."


	2. Malfoy Manor

**Disclaimer: **I do not own any of these characters.

* * *

**Chapter One**

**Malfoy Manor**

"I am so proud!" Pansy's mother said when Pansy told her parents of Draco's invitation. "To be invited to the Malfoy Manor is an honor!"

"Yes—Lucius's wife, Narcissa, is a Black, a family of most pure and noble blood!" Her father commented.

Pansy lifted her head. "Yes, Draco mentioned."

"Of course, I've been there before," Mr. Parkinson continued. "When I was a boy, Lucius used to invite me every summer. I'm so glad that our daughter is carrying on the tradition."

"Yes, and I am so pleased that we get to see Young Draco Malfoy! Surely he is as charming and well-kept as his parents."

* * *

An owl came for Pansy two nights later—it tapped its beak on her window at two o'clock in the morning. She peered up at the large, black owl, its big yellow eyes blinking steadily at her, a parchment rolled and tied to its leg. Groggily, Pansy got out of bed and opened the window; the owl hopped inside, and after giving it a knut and taking the parchment, Pansy sat down on the bed to read the letter.

_Are you having a nice summer so far Parkinson? Keeping in touch with anyone? I've spoken to my parents and father says that you and your family are more than welcome to come visit for the summer. Crabbe and Goyle are already here. Write back._

_--Draco Malfoy_

* * *

"An official invitation—isn't that lovely?" Mrs. Parkinson said the next morning over breakfast. "Write him back and tell him that we'd be delighted."

That night, Pansy took out her own parchment and quill.

_Dear Draco,_

_Thank you for the invitation. I have had a nice couple of days back, thank you, Millicent is the only person I have been exchanging letters with. My parents and I would be happy to visit you for the summer. When do you expect us?_

_--Pansy Parkinson_

The next day, Draco's response arrived.

_Tomorrow, preferably._

* * *

Draco favored both his mother and his father—they were ethereal beauties of fair skin and hair and light gray eyes. Lucius answered the door the day the Parkinsons arrived, appearing to Pansy as both intimidating and captivating.

"Ah, my dear old friends," he said in a deep, creamy voice.

"It's so good to see you again, Lucius," Mr. Parkinson said.

"Please, come inside," Lucius said. He smiled down at Pansy. "Lucius Malfoy, Draco's father," he said to her, holding out his hand. Pansy shook it, a bit timidly.

"Pansy Parkinson."

"Yes, yes. Draco's told me about you. He's outside with Crabbe and Goyle." He turned to Pansy's parents. "What a beautiful daughter you have."

"I'll show you, come on dear," Narcissa said, emerging from the kitchen. She smiled down at Pansy and took her hand.

"Draco!" she called. The Manor's backyard was vast and glorious, with a wide green lawn that stretched until it reached a forest. Suddenly, a flash of blonde streaked by.

"Draco!" Narcissa yelled. The figure came to a halt and Draco rested easily atop his shiny broom.

"Sorry mother," he said, dismounting. Crabbe and Goyle also came to a stop, following Draco's lead.

"I'll make you some lunch," Narcissa said. "Then Draco, you can show Pansy her room."

"All right, mother."

Narcissa went back into the house and Draco looked at Pansy.

"Hello Parkinson. Come on—I'll show you around."

* * *

The Manor was beautiful, much bigger than the Parkinson home.

"We have a lake," Draco said. "Plenty of land to practice Quidditch…" he laughed. "Oh yeah, you don't play. Well, you can watch me."

They circled back to the house.

"Come in for tea!" Narcissa said, giving Draco a quick kiss on the head before shuffling them all inside. Lucius sat cross-legged in a large leather chair, he and the Parkinsons talking and chuckling quietly to each other.

"Thank you," Pansy said as Narcissa poured her a fresh cup of hot tea.

"Come on, Pansy, I'll show you the rest of the house," Draco said.

"Drink your tea downstairs!" Narcissa called, but the children had already scampered off. The Manor had a huge, spiral staircase, the steps draped in deep emerald carpet.

"Have you been here before?" Pansy asked Crabbe and Goyle as the four of them ascended the stairs—the boys laughed.

"Only about a million times," Crabbe said, his chubby cheeks perking as he grinned proudly.

"Sh!" Draco snapped, stopping still. "Did you hear that?"

They all stopped in their tracks to listen—all of a sudden, they heard a loud _Thump!_ and a house elf appeared in front of them, dropping a large basket of bed sheets.

"I thought so!" Draco snarled, glaring down at the wide-eyed creature. "Be careful with my sheets, Dobby! Don't want anything falling into the hall!"

"Yes, Young Malfoy, sir," the house elf said, bowing. He struggled to pick up the basket. "Maybe if Young Malfoy allowed Dobby to use magic to do the laundry, sir…"

"No!" Draco yelled. "This is your…" he grinned maliciously. "…_punishment_."

He shoved past Dobby, Crabbe and Goyle snickering.

"Punishment for what?" Pansy asked, sneering back at the filthy creature. Draco shrugged and opened a door—they stepped into a large bedroom, one that was bigger than Pansy's parents' bedroom. It had deep blue walls and a king-size bed with tall, black posts. The walls were decorated with posters of Draco's favorite Quidditch team, the players smiling and waving at them all.

"This is my room," Draco said proudly, hands on his hips. Pansy felt something touch her leg, and looked down.

"Oh, beautiful!" she cried, kneeling down to stroke the humongous white snake that had slithered over to her.

"Hm. You're all right, Pansy," Draco said. "Crabbe and Goyle almost soiled themselves the first time they met Sophie." He picked up the snake and it draped itself over Draco's shoulders, nuzzling her owner's cheek affectionately.

"She's an albino boa constrictor. Father bought her for me last year—I hate to leave her here all alone during the school year." Sadly, he gave Sophie a pat on the head and placed her on his bed. "Oh stop cowering, you two," he said to Crabbe and Goyle, who were standing warily in a corner.

The next couple of rooms were Draco's playroom, which was basically a storage area for all of his brooms and games and such, and an extra kitchen so that Draco could get midnight treats without having to go all the way downstairs.

"You'll be staying here," Draco said when they reached a room at the end of the hall. Pansy smiled. The room was large and bright, with light pink walls and a large bed with a pearly white frame. Her things had already been brought up and they rested beside a wall.

"It's nice," she said.

"We're next door," Goyle said.

"Don't mind us if we come fetch you in the middle of the night," Crabbe told her.

"Don't scare her like that," Draco said. "My room is all the way at the end of the hall so I usually stay in the room with them."

"Not that we sleep, anyway," Goyle noted.

* * *

The boys were right about not sleeping—after a full day of exploring and showing Pansy around some more (with only a few breaks from Narcissa when she made them eat), Pansy was absolutely exhausted, but a few minutes after falling into bed, she heard her door creak open. A tall, chubby figure walked in.

"What is it, Goyle?" she asked.

"Come on," he whispered. "Next door."

Pansy sighed and got out of bed. She could hear low mumbling from inside the next room. They went inside—the room was large, but not quite as big as Pansy's, and it had two beds which looked as if they had not been slept in in a very long time.

Draco and Crabbe sat together on the floor, cross-legged. They casually glanced up at Pansy and Goyle as they walked in and closed the door. Draco scooted over, making room for them around a small burning candle, the only light in the room.

"What are you doing?" she asked, sitting down beside Draco. His pale faced looked very eerily bathed in the candlelight.

"Just talking," he said, glancing up at Crabbe, who looked a little frightened.

"Do you think he'll come back?" Crabbe said. Draco shrugged.

"Father doesn't think so, but with what happened with Potter and Quirrel at the end of the term…" Draco said, his voice trailing off, eyes flaring.

Pansy wrapped her arms around herself. She knew what they were talking about—her parents had been servants to the Dark Lord many years ago, before she was born—in fact, so had Crabbe and Goyle's, but Lucius Malfoy had been the closest link to the Dark Lord that Pansy knew, and now he was doubting his return even though he had appeared at Hogwarts…

"He's very weak," Pansy said. "Too weak to come back."

"Maybe," Draco said.

"Snape would know," Crabbe said.

Draco shot him a look. "I tried to talk to Snape about it. He wouldn't give me any answers."

"Is he coming to visit this summer?" Goyle asked.

Draco shook his head. "He can't, not this summer," Draco said, frowning. "He's busy with…other things."

"Snape comes to visit you?" Pansy asked.

Draco nodded. "He and my mother are friends."

"What about your father?"

Draco's look hardened. He didn't answer.

* * *

Summer vacation went byquickly at Malfoy Manor. There was much exploring to be done and many late nights to do it. When the week before the new school term came, the Parkinsons said their goodbyes to the Malfoys.

"Thank you so much, Lucius, Narcissa, we had a lovely time…" Mr. Parkinson said.

"Do come back next summer," Narcissa said. She gave Pansy a hug. "Be a good girl at school." She smiled wickedly.

Draco stopped Pansy on her way to the car.

"Meet me at the train station at 10," he said. "When we go back."

"Okay," Pansy agreed.

And she traveled back home, ready to begin her second year at Hogwarts.


	3. Millicent's News

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters.

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**Chapter Two**

**Millicent's News**

Pansy got to platform 9 ¾ at exactly ten o'clock. After kissing her parents good-bye, she glanced around for Draco until she spotted him standing with his father, the tall Lucius Malfoy murmuring something in Draco's ear. When the young blonde noticed Pansy, he smiled slightly, left his father's side, and approached her. Pansy smiled back.

"Hey Parkinson. Come on, Crabbe and Goyle are saving our seats. Out of the way, Weasleys."

Draco shoved past two tall identical Weasley twins, and Pansy glanced back at them disapprovingly before entering the cabin with Draco. Crabbe and Goyle sat on opposite sides, fists clenched.

"Did anyone try to knick our seats?" Draco asked, plopping down beside Goyle.

Draco sneered, leaning back in his seat, arms crossed.

"Think we'll have many classes with Gryffindors this year?" he said.

Pansy smirked. "You know we will."

"Haven't even seen Potter yet," Draco noted. "Maybe I'll be lucky and it'll stay that way. Maybe his lousy Muggle family locked him in the closet for good this time."

Crabbe and Goyle laughed but Pansy rolled her eyes. "But you know you love to make fun of him."

Draco smiled. "Yeah, well I've got to get my kicks somehow."

* * *

Pansy had planned on keeping her long stay at the Manor a secret from Millicent. She knew that Millicent had a bit of a thing for Draco, and she didn't want to hurt her feelings. But Millicent had a habit of knowing peoples' business, and it wasn't soon before she found out about Pansy's summer whereabouts.

"So that's why you couldn't come to my summer home," Millicent said in a strangely calm voice, although her neck was twitching. "Why didn't you tell me? We could have all done something."

"I didn't think of it really," Pansy lied.

"Well I wonder why he didn't invite me?" Millicent said. "I guess he doesn't want to make things too obvious."

"What?"

Millicent laughed. "Oh please, Parkinson." She raised her eyebrows at Pansy knowingly. "Draco _did_ write me _all_ summer."

Pansy didn't really know how to respond—she hadn't been aware that they had been writing, and she felt a strange pain in the pit of her stomach that she didn't quite understand. Why did she care that Draco had been writing to Millicent? She didn't…did she?

Millicent said nothing else about the matter of Draco Malfoy until their first class—potions—where she tended to make a habit of waving to Draco frantically until he noticed her—his eyes were usually on Pansy.

"Hey Parkinson," Draco whispered halfway through the lesson. Pansy peered over from her cauldron (she had partnered with Millicent). "They're holding Quidditch tryouts today. Do you want to come watch me try out?"

"Okay," Pansy whispered. She turned to Millicent. "I have to get something from the cupboard."

"You do? We have everything right here…"

But Pansy ignored her and motioned for Draco to follow her.

"Okay," she said when they reached the other side of the room. "But I have to tell Millicent that I'm going because _she's_ trying out, otherwise…"

"Yeah," Draco said, glancing at Millicent. "She's a little weird, isn't she?"

Pansy shrugged. "I just think she'd be jealous if I was going for you and not for her."

Draco smiled. "Well, then you're coming for both of us, aren't you?"

* * *

What Draco said might have been true, but when she was sitting in the stands between Crabbe and Goyle, she kept her eyes on Draco. However, Millicent flew first, trying out for Chaser, and she did well. Pansy gave Millicent the thumbs up as she landed and strode across the grassy field, but Millicent merely nodded at Pansy before running over and giving Draco a high-five, who smirked as he was called up first to try out for seeker. It looked to Pansy as if Seeker tryouts involved who could catch the snitch in the quickest time—if they could catch it at all. Draco managed to catch it in about ten minutes, what with the lack of the bothersome bludgers and other team members. She could have sworn that the other person who tried out for Seeker caught it in about half the time as Draco, but Draco seemed unbothered by this. She saw Marcus Flint smiling and talking with Draco and ignoring the other person, until he hung her head and walked off the field, cursing under his breath. Draco sauntered over to Pansy and the others, Millicent right at his heel.

"You made it?" Pansy asked.

"He did! Didn't he fly well?" Millicent boasted. Draco smiled slightly and nodded at Crabbe and Goyle to stand up and follow him out.

Pansy sighed and followed him, too.

"Congratulations then," she said as they entered the castle. He looked at her oddly but said nothing until they entered the common room and sat down by the fire, the other Slytherins clapping and patting him on the back for making Seeker.

"Something bothering you, Pansy?" Draco asked.

"No," Pansy said, avoiding his eyes. Draco looked at her for a moment before he was distracted by a flask shoved into his hands. A fifth year whispered something in his ear and Draco smiled, raised his flask to Pansy, and emptied it in one impressive gulp.

* * *

"It's finally happened!"

Millicent came bounding into the dorm at eleven o'clock at night, some weeks later, when Pansy had retreated early to bed after a long day of classes and studying. She lifted her head up groggily from her pillow and stared warily at Millicent, who wore a broad smile on her face.

"What's happened?" she asked. Millicent began to throw off her robes, taking her time to answer as if wanting to leave Pansy in suspense, but Pansy finally lost interest and was just about to sink back into sleep when Millicent's loud voice broke the silence.

"Draco kissed me."

Pansy's eyes were open at once. Her heart felt like it had been stabbed, and she frowned at the strange feeling.

"He did?"

"Yes!" Millicent beamed, sighing with joy. Pansy rolled over as not to face Millicent and closed her eyes. _Are you two dating now?_ She wanted to ask. _Is he…what does he kiss like?_ But Pansy kept her mouth shut. Why did she even want to know these things, and why did she feel so suddenly immensely jealous at the thought of Millicent and Draco together? Draco and she had been friends for about a year now—and the same with Millicent. Friends were bound to date each other.

So why did she feel so odd?


	4. When You Come Around

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters. ( But I enslave them in my free time! ;-D

* * *

**Chapter Three**

**When You Come Around**

Pansy was used to Draco looking flustered and/or annoyed—after all, most of his encounters involved Harry Potter, which Pansy didn't really understand, and so she chose to ignore. But today, Draco looked especially irritated, and she knew why: Millicent wouldn't leave him alone.

"Why can't I be less attractive?" Draco whispered outside in the courtyard, during a brief moment when Millicent had to use the bathroom. It seemed that every time Pansy looked at Draco, Millicent was hanging all over him.

Draco grabbed Pansy by the wrist and tugged her along.

"Come on," he said. "Before she comes back."

"What's going on?" Pansy asked when Draco had hidden them stealthily behind a tree.

Draco rolled his eyes. "I can't get away from her!"

"Do you _want_ to get away from her?"

"Okay Pansy, look," Draco said. "I kind of did something ridiculously stupid last night."

"Which was…" Pansy asked, but she already knew the answer.

"I—why are you smiling?"

"Oh, am I?" Pansy blushed. She hadn't meant to smile, but she was so relieved that Draco considered his little kiss with Millicent "ridiculous" that she just couldn't help it.

"Okay—whatever, listen Pansy. Last night, Blaise had firewhiskey, and I had a little too much than I should have, and Millicent was hanging around and she kind of looked good in the dark, and I kissed her…"

"Oh?"

"And now I guess she thinks we're getting _married_ or something."

"You don't want to marry her?" Pansy teased.

Draco sighed and crossed his arms. He peered over Pansy's shoulder and his eyes widened with fear. "Ohmigodhereshecomes."

"Draco! Pansy, you guys…what are you doing back here?" Millicent said, eyeing them. Pansy shrugged.

"It's Draco's favorite place," Pansy said, smirking to herself. She glanced at Draco, who was glaring at her. "I'll see you two later."

Millicent's mood has definitely changed from last night when she had come into the room positively glowing over her kiss. Tonight, she stalked in without a sound and fell right into bed. Pansy would have felt sorry for her if she didn't think she deserved it.

"Pansy," Millicent said in the dark.

"Yes?"

"What did Draco say to you behind the tree?"

Pansy thought. "Nothing. I mean, nothing you want to hear."

"What do you mean nothing I want to hear?"

"That's what I mean. You don't want to hear what he said."

"It was bad?"

"I'm not saying anything else. Ask him if you need to know."

Pansy rolled over in bed.

"I don't have to," Millicent sniffed. "After you left, he told me he was sorry if he gave me the wrong idea, that he was drunk when he kissed me and he didn't mean anything by it. He still wants to be friends."

Pansy grinned from ear to ear, not bothering to hide it in the dark room.

"I'm sorry," Pansy said finally.

"Sure you are," Millicent grunted, and she didn't say another word.

* * *

"I have to ask you something."

"What is it?"

Pansy and Draco were studying in the library—actually, they weren't really studying. They were sitting behind a high stack of books smoking one of Blaise's imported Muggle cigars, which Pansy rather fancied.

"Well," Pansy said. "Millicent told me that you wrote to her all summer."

Draco snorted, a small puff of smoke clouding around him.

"Did she?"

"Yes."

"Oh Pansy, I wrote her like two letters, after she wrote me like five of these horribly long, detailed essays about her summer…"

"Oh," Pansy said, and she stole the cigar out of Draco's mouth and shoved it in her own to suppress her grin.

"Why do you care, Parkinson?"

She ignored the question. "Can you get more than one cigar from Blaise next time? I want my bloody own. This one tastes like you."

Draco looked at her, smiling slyly. "Yeah, I'll ask."

* * *

Draco was free of Millicent, which let Draco and Pansy go and do together as they pleased. On this particularly cold day, they were taking a stroll outside; most everyone was inside, enjoying cocoa and the fire, and the students who were outside were playing in the snow. Not Draco and Pansy. They were taking a stroll on the lawn, arms linked in a friendly manner that only the two of them could understand.

Pansy was smoking a cigarette, the smoke appearing to look only like her own cold breath.

"Can I ask you something?" Pansy said.

Draco didn't answer, which meant yes.

"Who do you think opened the Chamber?"

"I don't know," Draco said, gazing down. He kicked a ball of snow. "I wish I knew."

"People think it's you," Pansy said.

"People think it's Potter."

"It isn't Potter."

"Of course not."

"And it isn't you."

"No, it isn't."

They were silent.

"What do you think of all of that?" Pansy said.

Draco took her cigarette, took a drag.

"I really don't know."

Pansy sat down in the snow and Draco followed, heads together.

"Are you coming around this summer?" he asked suddenly. Pansy glanced at him.

"I suppose so. Why?"

Draco shrugged. "It's more fun when you come around."


	5. Soaked

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters.

**Chapter Four**

**Soaked**

Pansy would never admit this to Draco, but he was her best friend. At school last year, when they had been second years, he was the only person worth talking to. It was obvious that they were close; they would sneak off during free time to smoke, and they shared a sense of humor about "The Millicent Thing That We Will Not Talk About Ever" (as Draco liked to call it).

Pansy was laying outside on the grass, eyes closed, soaking up the sun's warmth when something large and feeling swooped down and hit her in the face.

"Merlin's Beard!" she yelled. "Oh, get off then," she said lazily, taking the parchment off the owl's leg. It nipped at her knuckle and she gave it a knut, cursing.

_Pansy. Father says you're welcome back this summer if you like. Severus will be here this time. So will Crabbe and Goyle. Hope to see you soon._

Pansy smiled and raced back to the house.

"Mum," she said as she entered the kitchen. "Draco Malfoy has invited me back."

Her mother beamed. "Really? Surely you'll be going?"

"Well…yes, I suppose so," Pansy said, placing the letter in her pocket.

---

Two days later, after packing and spending time with her parents before leaving, Pansy was being transported to the Malfoy Manor. When the limo arrived, she stepped out to see the three boys playing Quidditch in the front yard.

"Pansy!" Draco yelled, landing his broom. "I mean, uh—hey, Parkinson."

He ran a hand through his hair, which she noticed wasn't slicked back as usual, but soft and messy. He caught her grinning.

"It was raining earlier…anyway, come on. You're just in time for dinner." Pansy picked up her things. "Don't be silly," Draco said, taking one of her bags and motioning for Crabbe to get the other. "I hope you brought fancy clothes," he said as they walked inside and they ascended the spiral staircase. He panted and shoved the suitcase with Goyle.

"Fancy clothes?" she asked.

"Something like a dress is fine," he said. "My mother is cooking a special dinner for you so we're all dressing up."

"Oh," Pansy said, stepping into her room. "Okay, I'll change, I'll be out in a few."

---

When Pansy emerged, she was wearing a pale blue dress with matching hair clips. She couldn't help noticing that Draco's eyes had an unfamiliar gleam in them as he looked her up and down.

"Nice threads, Pansy," he said, winking. Pansy tried to hide her blush. Draco looked rather handsome in his emerald dress robes, but Pansy pushed the thought away and followed him downstairs. The dining room table was lit with candles and Lucius, Narcissa, an uncomfortable looking Crabbe and Goyle, and Professor Snape, sat at the table.

"Hello," Pansy said.

Lucius smiled at her. "Good evening, Miss Parkinson."

"Well, let's eat then," Draco said, and he began to cut his steak.

"Hello Professor," Pansy said. Snape jerked his head toward her—he seemed to have been brooding over something.

"Ah—hello Miss Parkinson, how very delightful to be able to spend the summer with you," he said, his eyes darting to Narcissa.

"Pansy," Draco''s mother said. "Severus tells us you're a very good student."

"Better than Granger!" Draco piped in.

"Here, here!" Lucius announced, raising his goblet and clinking it with Draco's. They gulped happily.

"Crabbe, will you pass the potatoes?" Pansy asked. Crabbe passed her the bowl and as he brought his hand back, nudged her and dropped a note in her lap.

_The lake tonight._

Pansy smiled slightly and mouthed "okay" when none of the adults were looking.

"Anything interesting happen at school?" Lucius asked Snape. Snape gave him an incredulous look.

"Why yes, Lucius, a giant serpent was released and nearly killed five students. Oh, and The Dark Lord reappeared in the Chamber of Secrets. You didn't hear?" His voice was dripping with the same kind of malice that Pansy had only grown to associate with his interactions with Gryffindors.

Lucius didn't seem to notice however, and merely smiled at Snape before taking another sip of his drink.

---

"Draco, can I ask you something?"

The four of them, Draco, Pansy, Crabbe, and Goyle, were walking through the woods toward the lake. It was past midnight.

"Okay," he said.

"Do your father and Professor Snape have problems with one another?"

Draco frowned and said, "I don't know. They were both in allegiance with the Dark Lord a long time ago…but ever since then, Snape and Lucius don't really speak. Snape comes here mostly for my mum."

"Really?" Pansy asked. "Are they close?"

Draco nodded, and they walked in silence the rest of the way to the lake.

Malfoy Lake stood right beyond their patch of forest, and Draco often came here last summer to fish.

But not tonight; Pansy had never been to the Lake at night, and the moon illuminated the water; a warm breeze ran through Pansy's hair and she giggled as Crabbe and Goyle went running into the water, laughing and splashing. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw a pale, smooth body run into the lake after the other two boys. Then she noticed Draco's shirt on the ground.

"Come on, Parkinson!" he yelled. Pansy sat down on the bank and wrapped her arms around her knees.

Draco stood up in the water, his body dripping, and he shook his head, his hair falling over his eyes. He pushed it back and peered at Pansy quizzically.

"What is it?" he asked Pansy. She realized that her breathing had gotten heavier and she felt a hot tingling feeling in between her legs.

"Um—er—"

Draco stepped out of the water, his pants wet and slicked to his long legs. He grinned and grabbed Pansy by the arms.

"Hey!" she yelled. But he had already pulled her into the water.

"Time for you to get wet, Pansy," Draco said. Pansy started at his words but he didn't seem to notice the innuendo.

---

"Pass it, Crabbe," Draco said. Crabbe passed him the point. They were seated around a fire, trying to warm up after their swim. Draco took a drag and passed it to Pansy. She heard a loud snore and smirked, smoke drifting out of her nostrils, when she looked over and saw that Crabbe had fallen asleep on Goyle's shoulder, and Goyle was swaying in and out of conciousness, eyes fluttering closed.

Pansy took another hit. "Tastes like you," she said.

Draco looked down at her slowly, a sly smile creeping on his lips.

"And what does that taste like?" he asked. He leaned over so that their noses were nearly touching. "Like this…?" he whispered. Pansy froze as Draco's lips pressed lightly against hers. _My first kiss! _she thought frantically. _With…with Draco?_ She pulled away. Her first kiss couldn't be with Draco. It couldn't be with her best friend. He looked at her with his pale eyes, then suddenly, he was on the ground, snoring as loudly as Crabbe and Goyle.

"Oh, bother," Pansy muttered, and, putting the weed out, lowered herself to her knees and tried to drag Draco up by his shoulders. She could tell already that it was going to be a very long summer.


	6. Slight of Hand

**Disclaimer:** I do not own any of these characters.

**Summary:** This chapter takes place summer before third year, and then third year. Draco and Pansy are beginning to feel the hormonal frustrations of being young teenagers, and their relationship becomes a little more confusing for both of them.

**Chapter Five**

**Slight of Hand**

Draco Malfoy woke up in his own bed.

"The hell?" he muttered. He sat up and groaned, his eyes throbbing in their sockets. He heard the door open and attempted a glance over, wincing in pain and dizziness as the room pulsed in front of him.

"Morning," Pansy said.

"Ouch, don't yell," Draco whimpered. Pansy smirked and set a tray of tea and jammed toast on his lap.

"Rough night you had," she said. "I don't remember you being such a lightweight."

Draco snorted. "That's because I've never smoked Snape's stuff before."

Pansy blinked. "What?"

"Sh…I stole that stash from Snape's bedroom."

"Well what on earth does he need that for?"

Draco shrugged and took a sip of tea. He closed his eyes as the warm liquid coursed through him. When he opened them, wincing again at the pain of it, Pansy was staring at him.

"Pan," he said, setting down his cup. "Come here, could you do that thing with your fingers…?"

Pansy smiled and went around to the other side of the bed. She crawled up beside him and he closed his eyes, a low moan escaping his lips as she ran her fingers through his hair. He let his head drop onto her chest, breathing serenely, her touch tingling his body, her nails tracing the back of his neck…

"Mmm."

"Better?"

"Mhmm."

Draco ran his hand along her exposed thigh, carressing it with the rhythm of her heartbeat, which he felt pounding against the back of his head. His hand inched up the hem of her skirt, he could feel the warmth of her breath in his ear, the flutter of butterflies in his heart as his fingers crawled closer…

"Draco."

"Hm?"

"What are you doing?"

He realized that Pansy had stopped playing with his hair and he looked down to see that his hand was rested a considerable amount underneath her skirt. He quickly drew away and got out of bed, only to blush furiously when he realized that he was only wearing a pair of boxers, and his erection was pressing against the thin fabric. He turned away and placed his hands on top of the dresser, his back to her.

"Uh—" he stuttered.

"You should get dressed."

"Right."

"I'll be downstairs."

"Okay."

He watched Pansy out of the corner of his eye as she hurried out of the room and shut the door behind her.

"Fuck!" he cursed, tugging at his hair. He shut his eyes; a string of instances from last night flashed in front of them—Pansy wet in the lake—her seft lips moving against his—taking him out of his wet clothes—

"Christ, she's seen my naked!" He exclaimed, realizing that she must have changed him into dry boxers_. No no_, he thought. She probably shut her eyes, knowing her.

When he had dressed and gone downstairs, his mother and Severus were sitting together on the sofa, close to one another, speaking in low voices.

"Good morning, Draco," Snape said. His mother turned and smiled.

"Hello, sweetie," she said.

"Hello—where's father?"

The two adults looked at one another and Snape cleared his throat.

"Out," his mother said. She smiled, but Draco saw the dullness in her eyes, the tight skin around her mouth, as if smiling had become painful.

"All right then."

He strolled out into the backyard where Pansy was sitting in the grass, reading a book. He sauntered over—she looked beautiful in the sunlight, her black hair as shiny as a wet pebble, her pale skin sparkling like white sand. She looked up and smiled sheepishly when he sat down beside her. He wondered if she remembered the kiss—she must have, she had been less stoned than him, and he could remember it. _Oh God, I was stoned_, he thought_. I was probably terribly sloppy…_

"Where are Crabbe and Goyle?" he asked, interrupting his tragic thoughts and trying to keep the humiliated strain out of his voice.

Pansy shrugged. "I think they're still sleeping. They were trashed more than you."

"Ahehehehe…" Draco said in a high-pitched voice. Pansy turned back to her book and Draco fought the urge to kick himself. _Calm down_, he told himself.

Pansy yawned and fell back on the grass. Her knee brushed his thigh and he bit his lip as he felt himself harden. _Oh God,_ he thought. The very touch of her knee made him horny.

"Draco, will you stroke my arm?" she asked him, smiling, her eyes still closed.

"Huh? Oh—uh huh." He brushed her arm lightly with his fingers, moving from the inside of her wrist to the crook of her elbow. He used to do this to her last year, when she was bored in class, or stoned and her skin shivered at the sensation, giggling. But she didn't giggle now. Her lips parted in a silent moan and Draco shifted, his erection rubbing against his pants. He closed his eyes, tried to think of something, anything, to turn him off, but all he could think about was the way Pansy looked in her sweater, the way she parted her hair, the way her eyes twinkled…

Pansy shifted in the grass to lie on her side, her back to him. He took this as a sign to stop, but when he pulled his fingers away she grunted and moved her arm.

"Stroke it…" she said, laughing a little. Draco grinned. _That's exactly what I want to be doing,_ he thought. He let his fingers resume their touching, but this time, he let them trail along her back. He watched her body quiver as they lightly touched the back of her neck, and she let out the lowest moan, one barely audible, but enough to drive him crazy. He couldn't help it—he placed his hand under her shirt, her back warm against his hand, and slipped his fingers beneath the front of her skirt, relishing the soft feel of her skin, the silk of her knickers that he ached to slip off.

"Draco—"

"Oh—"

Pansy sat up and Draco pulled away.

"Well," Pansy said, not looking at him, her voice shaky. She stood up, brushing down her skirt.

"I'm going to go—uh—Snape—book…" she mumbled, and she hurried back up to the house.

Draco ripped at the blades of grass. "Damn it."

---

"Ah…my arm…ouch…"

Pansy rolled her eyes. "Lay off it, it's just me."

Draco opened his eyes and gazed at her wearily.

"But honestly," she said. "That looks like a nasty scratch. Are you okay?"

Draco moaned in response. It was their second day back at school and Hagrid's first class had taken a turn for the worst, resulting in Draco receiving a nasty blow from a Hippogriff.

Draco tossed his head from side to side, wincing.

"What, does your neck hurt now, too?" she scoffed, but she brushed his damp bangs away from his face and sighed, his pale eyes settling on her.

"More pain medication?" Madam Pomfrey bussled over, looking down fretfully at Draco. "Miss Parkinson, excuse us."

She practically pushed Pansy out of the way. Pansy frowned and walked out of the room, heading out of the hospital wing. She had to go back down to the edge of the forest to collect her things, which she had left by Hagrid's hut in her hurry to follow Draco and Hagrid into the castle. The rest of class was gone, all except for Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, and Ron Weasley, who were standing together against a tree.

"Hope his bloody arm falls off," she heard Ron say.

"His cut wasn't too bad…I mean…but he was bleeding an awful lot…I hope Hagrid doesn't get him into trouble…" Hermione said. Pansy felt a tug of guilt at the worry in Hermione's voice and she glanced up at the trio as she walked by.

"Draco's fine," she told them. They looked at her. "Really. Don't worry about it."

The three looked at each other before Ron said, "Right. That's not what Draco will tell his father."

Hermione nudged Ron in the ribs. "Thanks Pansy," she said, although she too had a hesitant tone to her voice. Pansy nodded and walked on. She didn't much case for Gryffindors—and she didn't ignore the fact that Harry hadn't so much as glanced at her when she spoke. She didn't always like the way Draco spoke to Harry—it embarrassed her a lot of the time, but she couldn't really blame Draco for disliking Harry either. He seemed terribly arrogant. She shook her head and let the breeze take her mind off it—she didn't have time to worry about that right now.

---

The Great Hall was filled with sleeping bags and the buzz of talk about Sirius Black. Pansy, for one, tried to push the thought out of her head, but Draco wouldn't shut up about it. Now, curled in her sleeping bag, she lay beside Draco; Crabbe and Goyle were somewhere nearby, and Millicent was laying dangerously close to a burly seventh year, Marcus Flint, whom she had taken to as soon as she joined the Quidditch team. It seemed as though Marcus was obliging to Millicent's attention, the way he joined her for meals and stayed late after practice to help her with special "one-on-one" instruction. Personally, Pansy could have gone her entire life without the disturbing image of what "one-on-one" time probably meant.

"Pansy?" Draco whispered, pulling Pansy away from her thoughts.

"Hm?"

"Are you awake?"

"No, but I can carry on conversations in my sleep."

It was after midnight and the headboy, Percy Weasley, was strutting around, telling people to be quiet. Draco scooted closer and their eyes met.

"Can you believe that Black actually came into the castle. He must really want to kill Potter—"

"Quiet!" Percy snapped.

"Put a cork in it, Weasle," Draco snarled. Percy huffed and walked away.

"Well, that was exciting. I'm going to bed. Night."

"But—"

"Night."

She rolled over and scoffed at the sight of Millicent and Marcus kissing. She tucked her body deeper into the sleeping bag and tried to erase the scene out of her mind. She heard Draco shuffle and then his arm was sliding into her sleeping bag, draping lazily across her waist.

"Night, Pan," he murmured in her ear, and the rhythm of his soft heartbeat put Pansy to straight to sleep.


	7. Sweet Solace

Disclaimer: I do not own any of these characters.

Summary: This chapter takes place the summer before fourth year; Draco and Pansy finally acknowledge their attraction, but to what extent are they willing to go?

Author's Note: solace—comfort in sorrow, misfortune, or distress.

Chapter Six

Sweet Solace

"Millicent, Bludger!" Draco yelled. Millicent tore out of the way just in time to escape the ball, glaring Marcus down from across the field. She flew up to him.

"Marcus!" she growled. "You nealy knocked me off my broom!"

"Way of the game, sweetheart," he purred, his lips curling into a vicious smile. Draco gazed over at Pansy and Snape, who were sitting on the back porch; he zoomed a little closer, pretending to be looking for the Snitch. He caught sight of Pansy's light blue eyes as she looked up at him and smiled. Pansy, along with the rest of his guests, had arrived two weeks ago. Draco thought about last summer, about the way he and Pansy had touched each other, the heat that pulsed through her as though she enoyed it, and the aching longing he felt when she pulled away. That ache was still there, and he hoped to get her alone soon, but it was difficult with so many of his friends around all the time.

"Draco, get your head in the game," Marcus shouted. Draco scowled and looked around lazily for the Snitch. He caught it within two minutes and the game ended.

"Having fun, Professor?" Draco asked as they headed inside.

"Frustratingly so."

"What did you think of the plays?"

But Severus didn't answer—he was too busy looking at Narcissa, who smiled when everyone walked in, but Draco could see the strained expression on her face, and her eyes were red as if she had been crying. Severus swept forward and draped a long arm around her shoulders.

"I'm fine, Severus," Narissa said, but she allowed herself to be lead into the dining room, and the door was shut and locked behind them.

Draco stood staring at the closed door, ignoring the voices of his friends behind him.

"Draco?" Pansy said, placing a hand on his arm. "Are you all right?"

"Mhmm."

He turned around and looked at her; she looked so innocent, so true. Paying no mind to the other people in the kitchen, he took Pansy's hand and lead her to the living area, sitting her down onto a sofa beside him. Without hesitation, he leaned his head on her shoulder and closed his eyes, and she ran her delicate hand through his hair.

"Draco, where's Lucius?"

"What?" he asked, startled by the sudden question.

"Your father. I haven't seen him the entire time I've been here."

Draco took a deep breath.

"Your guess is as good as mine, Pansy."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Marcus and the others came strolling into the living room—Draco sat up immediately and scooted away from Pansy, who cleared her throat and placed her hands in her lap.

"The lake tonight?" Millicent proposed, casting a hopeful look at Marcus. "Draco, do you have any firewhiskey?"

Draco scowled and crossed his arms. "I'm not much in the mood for that tonight," he declared soundly. The others stared at him for a moment before Millicent spoke.

"Well that's okay. Do you mind if we go without you?"

"Go on," Draco said, though there was an edge in his tone.

"What about you, Pansy?" Millicent said, raising her eyebrows.

"Don't you lot have enough parties?" she said.

Marcus laughed. "Enough parties! Merlin's Beard, Parkinson, you're losing your touch."

Pansy forced a smile and stood up, excusing herself from the room.

---

Pansy was lying in bed at eleven when her door squeaked open. She peered over at Millicent.

"You sure you don't want to go?" she asked.

"Don't you want to be alone with Marcus?"

Millicent hesitated. "Yeah. But we have to get Crabbe and Goyle drunk enough to pass out first."

"Oh, don't worry," Pansy said. "It doesn't take much."

Millicent sighed. "Okay then, good night, Pansy."

Pansy crawled back beneath her covers. "Night."

Some time later, Pansy was still wide awake. She wasn't tired at all, and although she was tempted to join the party, she knew that if she drank too much, the temptation to act on her attraction toward Draco would be too much for her to withhold. It was already hard enough to deal with it while she was sober. Every time Draco touched her, whether it was a brush of his fingers or a grab of her hand, Pansy wanted to scream in frustration.

"Pansy?"

His voice made her jump, and she rolled over to see that Draco was moving over to her bed. She sat up and made room for him. He was wearing a long sleeved black t-shirt the hung loose on his thin frame, and a pair of jeans. In a funny way, he looked a bit like Potter, the way his clothes were so baggy.

"Going somewhere?" she asked, nodding at his clothing.

"Well, that all depends," he said, sitting on the edge of the bed and looking sideways at her. He looked like a beautiful ghost in the moonlight, his pale skin illuminating in the bask of it, his hair falling over his eyes.

"On what?"

"On you," he said. "Would you like to go for a walk?"

"Can't sleep either?" Pansy said, smirking a little. "Okay then. I'll be out in a minute."

Draco left while Pansy threw on a long skirt and a blouse, not bothering with shoes. He was leaning against the wall, waiting for her, and he smiled when she came out into the hall.

"Got dressed up for me, did you?" he asked.

Pansy snorted. "I hope you brought your fags with you," she said as they descended the staircase.

"Of course." He pulled out two cigarettes, lit both, and handed her one. "Sorry. Forgot you don't like it to taste like me."

Pansy could feel herself turning pink, and was thankful for the darkness of the night.

"Nice out," Pansy said as they began their stroll.

"Mhmm."

"Draco?"

"Yes?"

"Are you quite open to interrogation?"

He took a drag. "Interrogation? What is it that you need to ask me?"

Pansy shrugged. "I'm just curious…why didn't you go tonight?"

"Exactly why I said. I wasn't up for it."

"Oh," Pansy said, trying to keep the disappointment out of her voice. She was hoping he'd say something like "because I wanted to spend time with you", but no such answer came.

They crossed over a small hill and sat down together, staring through the smoke.

"Mother's not doing well," Draco said.

"I know."

"I'm thankful for Severus."

"He's like a father to you, isn't he?"

Draco looked at her. "Yeah, actually. He's my Godfather."

Pansy started. "Oh—wow, really."

"Like I said, he and my mother are very close." He put out his fag and lay back. Pansy did the same, and their fingers touched. Neither of them made to move them.

---

School would resume in two days and Pansy would be returning home to see her parents before she left. Everyone else had already gone home, and she was gathering some things she had left around The Malfoy Manor when she heard it—low, angry voices emerging from the other side of the door that lead to the dining room. Pansy leaned her head against it, straining to listen. She recognized Draco's voice immediately, followed by another that was unmistakable—Lucius.

All of a sudden, she heard a loud popping noise.

"Lucius!" a third man roared—Snape?

Snape and Lucius were shouting at each other now. Pansy was knocked back into the cupboards as Draco stormed through the door.

"Draco—your eye," Pansy gasped. He turned to look at her, breathing heavily, his left eye was red and he had a feral look about him that Pansy had never witnessed before.

She stepped forward and he grabbed her hand. "Come on."

They went out the back door. Rain was pelting down on them.

"What happened?"

"My father."

"He's a bastard," Pansy growled, trying her best to catch up with him. He stopped by a tree and leaned against it, closing his eyes as if in pain, his chest heaving.

"I love my mum, Pan," Draco said. He sat down and Pansy did so as well, placing her fingers on the sore eye; Draco flinched.

"The only mistake she ever made was marrying my father. She deserved better than that."

He took Pansy's hand. "You can't leave me," he said, quite suddenly, looking at her, his eyes wild. He squeezed her hand.

"No…I'm afraid I can't," Pansy said in a soft voice.

"Promise."

Pansy winced as his grip tightened, but she answered him all the same. "I promise."

"Good," Draco nodded, letting go. He shivered in the cold. "Good."


End file.
